


I Need to Be Youthfully Felt Cause, God, I Never Felt Young

by Shoey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Baby Stiles, Age Play, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Daddy Derek, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Forced infantilism, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Kidnapped Stiles, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, Non-Sexual Age Play, Past Abuse, Sorry Sheriff, Stiles-centric, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-27 18:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10039469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoey/pseuds/Shoey
Summary: Years after losing both his parents in a short period of time, Stiles Stilinski is not doing well. He's been living on the run, struggling just to scrape by. Little does he know that he's had a Guardian Angel who has been watching over him for years and who can't stand back and just watch anymore. Derek Hale just wants Stiles to have a nice life and to love him as his own son, even though Stiles is only a few years younger than him.Will Stiles accept what Derek is offering or will he escape?(Or I really love this trope and there needs to be more so I tried :P )





	1. No More Alone or Myself Could I Be

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Derek's Baby Boy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035608) by [GentlyWithAChainsaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GentlyWithAChainsaw/pseuds/GentlyWithAChainsaw). 



I Need to Be Youthfully Felt Cause, God, I Never Felt Young

 

_Chapter 1_

 

No More Alone or Myself Could I Be

 

Well that was it, he officially had no more food. Stomach gurgling, he stares mournfully into the empty cupboard before closing the door and scrubbing his hands through his messy hair. “Fuck,” he mutters, “fuck.” Grabbing the keys to his apartment, (if it could be called that), he leaves, making sure the door locks behind him. It was a silly precaution, he didn't have anything worth robbing after all, but he liked to know his home was secure…. well, as secure as he could make it, it was the only comfort he had left. Not that he had much longer in the apartment, not if he couldn’t get some money together.

         

The cold air was like a slap in the face when he left the rundown building. Spring was taking its sweet time this year, it was already nearing the end of March and yet; the temperatures were still below zero with the smell of cold and the possibility of snow lingering in the air. Pulling his coat tighter around himself, he muttered curses under his breath and bemoaned the state of his boots which were offering little protection from the cold. Night was setting in and the street lamps were flickering to life, giving the small town he had settled in warm, almost pleasant glow that succeeded in covering up the terrible state of the town; one of the many left still struggling to recover after the long recession. He turns left at the end of the street and follows his feet to the diner near the edge of the town. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he fingers the last of his money and bites at the inside of his cheek. He had enough to buy a decent dinner and maybe get some groceries later. He had intended to use the money to put towards fixing his jeep so he could leave this town, but he would never make it if he had no food or energy. So, he would buy dinner tonight, to give him the energy he needed to go find some work. His last temporary job had ended a few weeks back and he desperately needed the cash.

 

Not for the last time he cursed his decision not to settle down south, where it was at least _warm_ , while his hand lifted and he pushed the heavy door inwards sighing as the warmth and the noise of the diner hit him. Smiling at Rosetta, one of the main waitresses at the diner and as such one of the only people he actually talked to in the town, he made his way to the counter and took a seat on one of the stools there. Drained, he rests his arms on the vinyl and his head on his arms. “What can I get ya sugar?” a voice startles him from his reverie staring at the patterns in the counter before him and raises his eyes to look at the owner of the voice, Stella, the other main waitress employed at Rockets diner. “The usual please, Stella,” he orders offering her one of his best, charming smiles and earning himself and snort and an eye roll for his efforts, Stella had long become immune to his special brand of charm. “One cheeseburger, curly fries and coffee coming right up,” she expertly fills out the order details on her notepad and spins around to place it on the order board “What's eatin’ ya anyway? Still no luck with the job huntin’?” Stella recommends a few people that might be looking, and engages him in some pleasant small talk all the while wiping down the counter beside him before she is eventually drawn away, first to collect his order and then to tend to other customers, leaving him to his own devices. It's only when, while eating a fry and taking a look around that he notices that he was under intense scrutiny. Two men were seated at a booth towards the back of the diner, next to the window, but they weren't looking out of it, no, they were staring at him. They didn't even stop staring even when they saw he had noticed and even though one of them had to strain his neck around to look. It was really unnerving and he found it hard to swallow the fry he had been chewing, having to take a big gulp of his coffee and thump himself on the chest a few times earning himself a raised eyebrow from Stella. Flushing, he turned his back on the creepers and focused on eating his food, savouring each mouthful and studiously avoiding looking in the mirror that was behind the counter and either looked at his plate or into the sliver of kitchen he could see behind the partition.

 

When he finished every last thing on his plate and all but licked it clean he waved Rosetta, who was closer, over and settling the bill with her. While he was handing over his money he happened to look up and see that Stella was at the table with the two men and they were talking and gesturing towards him. Face paling he took the change Rosetta handed him and stuffed it into his wallet and his wallet into his jeans before he made a hasty exit out of the diner barely sparing a goodbye to the waitress. Hands shoved deep into his coat pockets he set off at brisk pace, wanting to get as far away from the diner and those creepy, weirdos as quickly as possible. A worry niggled at him that they could be social workers coming to hunt him down, the little runaway that he was. It had been a year since he had left his last foster family under the guise of going to high school but had fled the state with his Mom’s ancient jeep and a fake ID. He shook his head, there was no way they could still be looking for him, if there was one thing that his life had taught him, it was that he wasn't worth it. He never had been and he never would be. Even if these guys weren't with CPS however, he didn't like the way they were looking at him and he couldn't slow down or stop looking over his shoulder until he was a good distance away. Looking over his shoulder one last time his shoulders slumped with relief when he saw no one there and he leaned up against a wall to catch his breath.

 

Looking around as he rested he tried to get his bearings and realised he wasn't far from the lot where he had left his precious jeep while waiting for it to be repaired. Not really knowing where to start with his job search he shrugged his shoulders and decided to check on his baby, make sure no one had harmed her. He pushes away from the wall and slips down the alley a little way up the block which leads him straight to the almost empty lot. He can see goofy paint job washed out in the streetlights and smiled his heart feeling a little lighter. No matter what happened or will happen he would never give up his jeepr, it was as much a part of him as his arms or his legs, it was the only consistent thing in his life and he would do whatever it took to keep the Jeep with him. When he finally reaches the vehicle he runs his fingers over the cold, cold metal and checks her over for any damages crooning softly to the car as if it were a skittish horse or puppy.

 

He was so focused on baby (as he called the car) that he didn't notice the two diner creepers come up to him until he was pulled back against a hard chest and pinned. “Hey! What the fuck man! Let go of me! What the fuck is your problem!?!” he hissed and struggled and cursed, landing a good kick on the other creepers thigh but only stopping him for a second, the guy came straight towards him, dodging his legs and moving forward until he was almost pressed against his front. His struggles were useless now, only serving to rub him against either of their chests, not that that stopped him, no, it was the needle that was pierced into the skin of his neck that stopped him. He could feel whatever they had pumped into his veins kicking in almost instantly, his arms falling limp and his legs buckling under his weight within seconds. His body was lifted up and he was draped bridal style into the muscled guys arms (the one whom had pinned him from behind moments ago) arms and pressed against his chest. The other guy swam in and out of Stiles vision, but looked vaguely familiar, Stiles' foggy mind couldn't place him however. The ridiculously strong guy cradling him started to rock him gently as his friend offered Stiles a soft smile. “It's ok, you're ok, sweet boy” he heard the man holding him whisper over Stiles' whimpers and he felt his forehead furrow in confusion. “Shh sweetheart, it's ok, Daddy’s got you,” the man crooned into his ear and the last thing Stiles Stilinski remembers before he blacks out is thinking how could his Daddy have him when he was dead? He had died in the line of duty years ago, leaving Stiles without anyone in the world.....

 

__  
  



	2. For Reasons Wretched and Divine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MAN 50 KUDOS AND ALL THE COMMENTS! I can't believe it! I wasn't expecting anything like this! I love you guys! I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> I guess I should mention that there is non-con touching? Its not sexual, but I'm going to warn you that obviously this is going to be a theme until Stiles gets settled in his new life. There will be no sterek action in this (just incase anyone isn't clear) just an adorable father-son relationship between them! Also brief mention of thoughts of suicide, very brief... I hope you guys continue to enjoy!

For Reasons Wretched and Divine

                He weighed practically nothing. Even without his supernatural strength Derek would have been able to lift Stiles without difficulty, the thought made him growl softly and hug the slim body in his arms closer. “Here Derek,” Scott says softly as if unwilling to break the silence that rang around them. He pulls off his wool overcoat and drops it over Stiles’ form. Derek nods, grateful for the thought and turns towards where his Camaro sat not too far away. “He’s changed so much,” Scott speaks up again, his expression looking like a kicked puppy and his eyes trained on Stiles, “He’s so thin, and that energy, that nervous, excited energy he always used to have…. Oh man Derek…” Scott trails off and sighs sadly before rushing ahead to open the passenger side door for Derek and pull the chair forward so he can reach the backseat. Derek, to Scott’s surprise, tosses him the keys and climbs into the back still holding Stile’s “I can’t…” Derek mumbles, ducking his head, not able to speak with all the emotions he was feeling finally holding this small body in his arms. Scott nods in understanding and shuts the door, before climbing into the driver’s seat and taking off in the direction of the motel without another word.

 

✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺✺

 

                Derek couldn’t believe this was actually happening, his heart was full with happiness, but also breaking for the young man splayed out before him on the bed. Stiles was _so_ skinny! Derek had removed most of Stiles’ so he could get him ready for the long trip to California but couldn’t help but pause when he finally revealed his bare chest (man the kid loved layers!). He could count Stiles’ ribs with ease and it made his chest ache to see evidence of how hard his precious boy had had it. “It’s ok baby, Daddy is going to take _such_ good care of you. You’re going to love your new home, Daddy built it all for his sweet little boy,” he cues to the sleeping form as he continues to strip the old ratty clothes away from Stiles’ pale skin. He frowned at all the hair and the dry skin but pushed the thoughts away for now, Deaton will fix it all, he just needed to get Stiles comfy and ready for the _long_ car ride. Derek speeds up the process a little when he sees Stile’s shiver a little and grabs the diaper bag he placed beside the bed. “Look baby boy! Daddy bought you a present, it’s got little foxes on it, aren’t they cute?” Derek places the Babygro on the bed beside Stiles and took out the diaper changing necessities and getting to work. “There we go baby, almost done, we’ll get you nice and comfy cosy…”

                 Scott arrives back at the motel just as Derek was sliding a soother into Stiles’ mouth and clipping the strap to the front of the soft cotton Babygro. “Did you get everything?” Derek asks him, a lot more cheerful now that he had Stiles all comfortable. Scott nods enthusiastically holding up a small backpack while stepping up next to Derek and looking down at the sleeping boy “Awww, he looks so adorable! Is he going to be warm enough like that though?” Derek nods “All the studies say that putting babies in coats in car seats isn’t safe, so it’s better to cover them in a blanket, like this one!” Derek holds up a soft fleecy blanket with an adorable fox print pattern. Scott scrunches up his nose as he starts to gather all of his stuff up, (they’d been here for few days watching Stiles) “Great that you did your research man, kudos really, but I’ve been meaning to ask…. What’s with all the foxes?” Derek snorts packing away the baby stuff into the diaper bag, “You can’t tell me that Stiles, with all of his hyper energy and curiosity and his adorable slyness doesn’t remind you of a cute little fox?” He runs an affectionate hand through Stiles’ soft locks before fixing a hat on his head, and picking him up. “C’mon, was I supposed to dress him up in all wolf gear? Nah, I mean, I do have some, and they’re going to look adorable on him, but he is definitely my little fox kit,” Scott trails behind him to the car, shaking his head at Derek’s chattiness, it was nice to see him so relaxed after the stress of the last few weeks. “I’m not complaining man, Kira is gonna love it,” He shoots him a grin as he starts back into the motel room to grab the rest of the bags. Derek meanwhile got Stiles situated in his car seat and wrapped his blanket around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead “Let’s go home Baby..”

                 It was a 17 hour trip (thereabouts) from Wyoming to the small town of Hayfork, CA. It was a beautiful little town that was surrounded on nearly all sides by national forests. It is where Derek, his family and his pack have lived since the fire that destroyed their home and killed some of their loved ones. It had been Derek’s fault, well, not completely and his mom would kill him if she heard him take all the responsibility onto his shoulders (again). It was all caused by a series of stupid mistakes Derek made when he was young and easily lead. He believed he was in love with a women named Kate. She was beautiful, charismatic, older, more mature and was interested in him, he was a lost cause from the second she walked into his life. He didn’t (couldn’t) tell his family about her, he knew they wouldn’t have approved, especially as he was only 16 at the time. He gave her everything, his love, his trust, his virginity… His family’s lives. He hadn’t known he was giving her that last one in fairness, being a stupid teen, high on hormones and influenced by his older lover, he snuck her into his house revealing the unlocked back door and all the little tricks he and his sisters and cousins had perfected over the years for slipping in and out of the house. Derek hadn’t known she was a hunter, if he had told his parents about Kate, he would have found out, but her was young and foolish. Kate hatched an evil plan and almost succeeded if not for Sheriff Stilinski who had been tipped off about Kate potentially grooming a minor and had been trailing her. He witnessed her setting the fire and called over his radio for back up and emergency services before rushing into the house that was quickly turning into an inferno. Unknowingly he had broken the line of mountain ash with his sheer will to save these people. He got everyone in the basement out, all dazed and weak, but had heard screaming from one of the second floor. He had heard sirens in the distance, Derek knew that, because he had heard them too, but Kate had mixed some wolfsbane into the accelerant on the fire and rather than burn away harmlessly the smoke was weakening the wolves in the vicinity. The sheriff obviously knew that they would never make it in time and had charged back in, unwilling to leave anyone behind. “Look after my son.” Had been the Sheriffs last words as he ran back into the house. He had never emerged alive, nor had Derek’s Aunt Abigail or infant cousin Lily, both human whom had been napping upstairs unaware of what was happening downstairs. Derek’s uncle Peter was also badly injured trying to save his wife and daughter, but survived, just barely. That week was the hardest of Derek’s life and he had seriously considered ending it right then and there and just leaving his family in peace. He was consumed with guilt and self-hatred. It wasn’t until the Sheriff’s funeral that Derek stopped thinking about himself and how he felt and instead focused on the tiny little figure standing beside the coffin surrounded by officers dressed to perfection, shoes and buttoned shined. The kid, all alone in the world, no mother, no father to comfort him, was clutching his father’s badge like a lifeline. Derek felt everything in him focus on this kid with a sudden clarity. “Look after my son.” That was it, that was what Derek had to do, that is what Derek would spend the rest of his life doing. “Look after my son.”

Derek peeked at the figure sleeping in the backseat and smiled. He finally was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its a bit rough, I wanted to get out to you guys as soon as possible and I just wanted to get the backstory out of tghe way and get our boys on the road! I hope you enjoyed, I was crying whilst writing about poor little Stiles at his Dad's funeral, it hurt my heart! Sorry Sheriff Stilinski! <3  
> BTW I created a tumblr to show you guys pictures of Stile's clothes and the house. I have a research obsession, I try not to get too fixated but I'm weak willed! :P Anyway check it out; https://shoey-universe.tumblr.com/  
> Don't worry about following it or liking or whatever, I just made it to give you guys some visuals! <3


	3. Baby, There's Something Tragic About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Derek musings and back story

Baby, There’s Something Tragic About You

 

____________________________________________________________________

           It was simultaneously hard and not hard for Derek, having Stiles drugged for the long trip home. It was a long car ride, about 17 hours from Pinedale Wyoming to Hayfork CA and boy did Derek hate long car rides. He wanted to be home with his baby already, getting him cleaned up, settled and taken care of. Stiles needed to be seen by a doctor for definite, he was far too skinny for his age. Derek considered consulting Dr Deaton about having Stiles’ body aged down, it was obvious that Stiles had been through a lot for the last almost decade and his body bore the scars. It broke Derek’s heart. He wouldn’t decide just yet though, he’s always known he would love Stiles not matter what, it was all down to what Deaton considered best. On the Brightside though, having Stiles drugged meant that he was completely dependant on Derek, just like a new born baby. They could have taken shifts and just driven straight through for the 17 hours, but Derek didn’t want the baby to get sore or stiff, so they booked a motel room for the night. That being said, they didn’t actually book until a motel until they had visited FOUR different ones first; Derek was being extra picky. To the point that Scott was on the verge of knocking him out and just going to anywhere where there was a bed, but thankfully, Stiles had started to make grumpy little, uncomfortable noises in the back seat and Derek had had to give in.

  
           So here they were, Stiles freshly cleaned and changed into a new Babygro, (this one extra soft, with a bunny print that had made Scott snort) and cradled in Derek’s protective arms while he blindly sucked on a bottle. Scott kept sneaking peeks at Derek’s totally besotted expression (and even snuck a couple of pictures) while he set up the travel cot that Derek had thoughtfully packed, along with clean sheets and fluffy blankets. Scott had been taken aback when he had seen how much Derek had packed when they were leaving Hayfork, even more so when he realised that only a small backpack was for Derek himself, but he had to begrudgingly admit that a lot of what Derek had brought was actually useful. “He’s still really tense,” Derek’s soft murmur took Scott by surprise and thankfully his quick reflexes stopped him from fallen over fully. “What?” He asked, not really comprehending. “Stiles, he’s really tense… look at his hands,” Derek stood up and moved closer so Scott could see where Stile’s hands were clenched hard onto his own clothing. Frowning he looked up at Derek’s expression, which had switched from besotted to concerned, breaking Scott’s heart a little, Derek was so rarely anything other than broody or stoic, it had been a nice change. “Oh… hey man, relax,” He scrambled to comfort Derek, “It’s only been a few hours, you haven’t even gotten him home yet. Give it a chance Der… it’s going to work out. Just be patient! Now, go back to cuddling him while I finish this, the sooner we go to sleep, the sooner we can get back on the road and get the little man home, hmm?” He gently nudged him back towards the bed, where Derek went absentmindedly, stroking his finger along Stiles’ white knuckles as he went.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

              Sleep didn’t come easy for Derek that night. He had waited for this for so long. So long for this moment and he was giddy. His baby was within reach, just visible through the mesh barriers of the travel cot he was snoozing away in. Derek couldn’t quite get his eyes to stay closed, to stop staring at the precious miracle in front of him. He knew he had a long way to go before Stile’s really settled into his new life and new role, but he was excited. He was saving Stiles; saving him from a life of poverty, oppression and despair. He was going to be warm, fed, happy and surrounded by love everyday for the rest of his life, and Derek was going to make it all happen.

  
               His family and pack had been very supportive. Well, his Mom had always knew he was destined to be a Daddy in some form, he was a natural caregiver, always helping with his younger siblings, cousins, and even with new pack members. Some of his pack had been bitten and hadn’t grown up in the society that Derek had so they weren’t familiar with the idea of littles, so Derek had worked hard to bring them around to the idea of what Stiles’ was oing t be like and what was expected. Surprisingly, Scott had been on board from the moment he heard Derek’s plan. Stiles’ was his best childhood friend and it broke Scott’s heart every time he thought of that bright energetic kid (that had gone out of his way to help and befriend him), suffering so much at the hands of fate and the care system. He wanted that sweet kid to have the best life possible and if that was as a little, then that was that. He jumped at the chance to help Derek and actually volunteered to watch Stiles from a distance, protecting him until Derek was able to (finally) get the paper work sorted with the Society for the Adoption and Protection of Adult Babies, (SAPAB for short). The rules were that the prospective little, if they hadn’t signed up for adoption voluntarily, had to have a proven need for someone else to take care of them, i.e homelessness, self harm, depression, neglect, runaway and many more. SAPAB knew that a lot of adults were better suited to the life of being a little, but they were perhaps, unaware of this option, which lead to them failing at taking care of themselves. Stiles was a prime example of this case. Not that Derek had wanted to let it get as far as to make this obvious, he would have loved to snatch Stiles up years ago and wrap him up safe away from the world, but he wanted it legal, he didn’t want anyone to be able to take his baby away from him. Now, Stiles was his and Derek and his vast pack will protect Stiles with all of their might when they finally reached home.

  
            Smiling sleepily at the thought of home, the house in the giant preserve his family owned, that Derek had built for him and his cub. Stiles was going to love his nursery and his crib and all of the toys Derek had accumulated over the years for him. “We’re almost home baby. Daddy loves you,” He whispers to the sleeping baby, tracing a finger softly along the mesh fabric of the walls of the crib for finally dropping off to sleep.

\------------------------------------------------------------

             “We’re almost home baby. Daddy loves you,” Stiles’ eyes flutter behind his lashes as he floats in the state between sleeping and awake. Sleep was pulling him back in but as he was snuggling in deeper to the soft warmth surrounding him, more comfortable than he ever remembers being, he smiles. Home that sounded nice, he wanted to go home. He missed Daddy, maybe he could get a nice big bear hug off of him when he woke up. That would be wonderful, Stiles would really like that. So with happy thoughts and memories of strong arms hugging him, and kisses to his forehead that smelt like toothpaste, held to a chest that was safe and smelt like fresh laundry, cologne and gunpowder. ‘Love you too Daddy…’

~<(^v^)>~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me! I had a terrible year, for reals! I'm determined to keep this story up and I hope it meets everyone's hopes!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a lot of different ones of its kind, I'd be here forever if I tried to name them all but let's just be safe and say nearly every infantilism fic in the Supernatural and Teen Wolf fandoms on Ao3 have inspired this work and with emphasis on “Derek's Baby Boy” by GentlyWithaChainsaw and “Little Man” by Ricochet_Rowdon


End file.
